


metamorphosis

by cafekusanagi (RangerDew)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Amnesia, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RangerDew/pseuds/cafekusanagi
Summary: Vector reappears after one year of being declared missing.
Relationships: Kamishiro Ryouga | "Shark" | Nasch & Vector
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [something or the other](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016295) by [RangerDew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RangerDew/pseuds/RangerDew). 



> or, more specifically, a rewrite.
> 
> if the title changes, no it didn't.

NAME: SHINGETSU REI

AGE: 16

SEX: M 

MISSING: 03 02 20XX

It had been a really, really long day at school. Yuuma yawns. Geez, Sis is going to be mad when he gets home so late. 

It had been totally worth it, though. He’d won against Mizael and _finally_ broken the tie they’d been going at for months. And it was incredible, too. They went back and forth and back and forth, and at the last moment when Mizael summoned—

Yuuma notices someone stumbling against the wall across the street from him.

His breaths are labored and he looks as though he’s about to fall over every three steps. Yuuma immediately begins to bound over. 

“Hey, are you alright? What are you doing out here right no—”

Yuuma stops just a few steps in front of them. 

There’s a heavy moment where the only sounds are the seagulls in the distance, the faraway rumbling of cars, and labored breaths. Yuuma takes it all in; the bright orange hair, the short frame, the slight flash of violet eyes. 

“Vector?”

There’s no response. Yuuma is about to speak again, attack him with a barrage of questions — _Where have you been? How are you here now? What happened?_ — when—

The boy promptly faints in his arms. 

Oh, man. 

The day was going to be a lot longer than Yuuma thought.

  
  


Surprisingly enough, when he drags an unconscious body into the house long after the sun has set, Sis’ first question isn’t, “Should I call the cops?” but instead just, “Want me to help set up your room?” Yuuma nods, and Sis heads off to his bedroom. 

He sets Vector down on a chair on the dining table, where Granny has already prepared a full-blown meal. Vector slumps while steam rises from the rice bowl in front of him.

“My, my,” Granny says. “You didn’t tell me we were going to have guests over.”

Despite the absolutely ridiculous situation, Yuuma straightens his back immediately and sheepishly rubs the back of his head. “Sorry, Granny. It was really sudden.”

So sudden that his brain still hadn’t caught up to it. This was Vector. He had been missing for over a year, and now he was here. 

Yuuma wants to cry, laugh, hug him, and punch him all at the same time. 

_Why did you leave?_ Is a question, but _I’m so glad you’re safe_ rings deafeningly in his heart. What happened to have him like this, anyway? Fumbling against a wall at dusk, barely upright. Ack, it’s so far from the image of Vector Yuuma has in his head that he feels like his brain is about to combust. 

A little part of him is really, really angry. But the other part is too relieved to care. And, as usual, the relieved part wins. It always does.

“Room’s ready,” Sis suddenly says from the doorway. Yuuma looks back up, train of thought broken, and although Akari looks mad, her brows are furrowed by something else. 

“Don’t stress out too hard over this, okay?” she says. “You still have a bunch of homework to do, I bet.”

Yuuma slumps. “Geez, is that really the priority right now?”

“Dad’ll be disappointed if you don’t bring it to ‘em in your gradebook, too, Yuuma.” She sighs. “Sorry. Nevermind. I just… wanted to remind you things were still normal.” 

There’s a silence and a lost look in Sis’ eyes before she turns and walks off, presumably to her office. 

“Don’t stay up too late,” she calls back. 

“I won’t,” Yuuma calls after her. 

It’s silent for some time. Yuuma turns to look back at Vector, still slumped over in front of a slightly colder bowl of rice. He lets out what feels like the hundredth sigh that night.

_Gah, sorry, Sis. I am going to be staying up_ so _late._

* * *

  
  
  


Vector wakes up in the dead of the night when Yuuma is doing his trigonometry homework.

“Um, so if the function needs to be simplified… okay… half of twelve is six… and, um…”

Someone gasps from behind him, and Yuuma nearly jumps out of his chair.

“Jesuschrist!”

“Sorry! Sorry. Sorry.” 

_Sorry? Wait, what?_ He readjusts his lamp in Vector’s direction, and his eyes meet with the same bright violet that he used to see in his friend. 

It’s Vector, alright, but he’s… acting weird. His entire body language is entirely unlike himself, Vector Version _or_ Shingetsu Version. He’s huddled against the corner of the bed, cowering and looking as though he’s trying to cover as much of his body as possible with Yuuma’s multi-patterned childhood blanket. 

His eyes are also just strange. They’re wider. In the metaphorical sense, of course.

All this to say, Yuuma is too relieved to care.

“Oh, man, Vector.” Yuuma can’t stop his face. It splits into a wide grin. He can’t even _begin_ to— to _feel_ all the— _relief_ he feels right now. “You’re alright.”

He huffs a little. There was a breath he _really_ didn’t realize he had been holding, that he had been worried for Vector’s safety and consciousness even after his return. Yuuma’s can’t stop smiling, his lips are still in a grin, and he doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to. He huffs again, laughing into it this time. “Man, you had me _super_ worried! It’s been really, really long.” Flashes of the mayhem after Vector’s disappearance replay in Yuuma’s head. God, had it really been a year? Over a year? 

Still smiling, he looks back up to meet Vector’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He’s met with an utterly confused stare. 

A pinprick of unease begins to settle on Yuuma’s heart, barely enough to be noticeable. He chuckles, still a bit high from the adrenaline. “Uh, what…? ”

There’s a beat of silence. The confused look is still on Vector’s face, with no sign of recognition or understanding. Yuuma speaks up again. “Um. Wait, hey, man, are you okay…?” His voice drags off when he hears Vector mumble something, ever so quietly.

It’s silent again, though only for a tiny, insufferable moment. When Yuuma speaks again, his voice is quiet enough to match Vector’s. “Um. Could you repeat that?” 

And Vector tips up his head ever so slightly, and it’s at this angle that Yuuma is suddenly _hit_ with just how different his demeanor is.

He’s really so much shyer. Smaller. 

... _Happier?_

“That’s not my name,” he says softly. Yuuma feels like the air’s just been punched out of his chest.

“Ah,” Yuuma replies. He’s sure his voice just cracked, and he’s sure he sounds just as shell-shocked as he feels. He says the only thing he can think of to follow up with.

“Um, so what is your name, then..?”

Vector — _or not Vector_ — stares him dead in the eye. _He really does look different,_ Yuuma thinks, and there’s a kind of decision shown in the other boy’s eyes just as he announces, softly but with determination,

“Shingetsu. My name is Shingetsu.”


	2. Chapter 2

It is Saturday and Shark does not want to get up. 

His alarm goes off — lovingly set to  _ Ocean Man  _ as a joke by Rio — and he snoozes it. Damn, he is tired. 

The doorbell rings, and he wonders if Kotori is over for another shopping date with Rio that will surely go over their budget or if that class president kid is here to talk with Dubhe about library duty. The doorbell rings again, and Shark wonders why no one has gotten up to answer it yet.

There’s a beat before a very loud, noticeable voice rings from the front door.  _ “Shaaaaaaaaaaark! Open up!” _

Aw, shit. 

He grunts and pushes himself off the bed and promptly onto the floor. His phone happens to be right in front of him, and as if on autopilot he presses it open and groggily looks at the time.

_ 8:23. God, why is Yuuma here so  _ early?

Shark lifts himself off the floor with a great deal of effort and lugs himself to the door. His room is fairly far from the front door, but Yuuma’s voice can pretty much carry itself anywhere. He begins the long walk to the main hall.

The house is empty, surprisingly, and it explains why  _ no one else  _ answered the door. Well, it’s Saturday. They probably all have their own things to do.

That’s what Shark is thinking when he opens the front door gate and is met face to face with his least favorite person in the world. 

His least favorite person in the world who he also thought dead.

And by his side, one of his favorite people in the world, dressed in casual off-day clothes, is waving and smiling a bit sheepishly. As if ‘a bit sheepishly’ could cover this situation.

Shark slams the door shut. 

Leans against it. 

Covers his face.

It’s too early. It is  _ entirely  _ too early.

He cracks open a finger, and it’s now when he notices he’s wearing his shark-print jammies, also gotten for him as a joke by Rio.

He’d worn his shark-print jammies, in front of Yuuma, and the man who had killed him and everyone he loved, but who he had complicated feelings about, and who he thought was definitely dead. 

It’s just now that he realizes he’s breathing far too fast. He’s definitely breathing too fast. There isn’t enough air, there isn’t enough  _ space,  _ and it is also  _ entirely too early for this _ — 

“Shark! Shark, are you okay?!” 

He stops dead, anxiety piercing through his heart.

_ No. Stop that. Stop that right now. Yuuma is waiting and he’s thinking about you so hurry the hell up and Yuuma is outside and you are in a situation get yourself together quick.  _

He takes in a deep, shuddering breath. Counts the in, counts the hold, counts the out. Repeat. 

He runs through every reason not to lock the door shut and run as far away as he can and steels himself. Takes another deep breath. And another.

He opens the door, and sure as it was, Yuuma is still standing there, the person of Shark’s nightmares by his side. They’re still there. Nothing has changed. Shark sure as hell hopes he snapped back quickly enough for them to not start concerning themselves with him. He tries pointedly not to look in the direction of orange hair and violet eyes.

Yuuma rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, um… sorry for showing up so early! And sorry to have startled you…” he says sheepishly. Shark’s neck and face burn.  _ Dammit. Of course he’d noticed. _

“And, um… sorry this is so sudden…”

“This isn’t like you, Yuuma. Hurry up and say what you’re about to say already,” he snaps. His heart is running a million miles per hour, and he’s aware that he’s wound up and fidgety. In the corner of his eye, the object of his pointed disinterest almost seems to flinch. 

“Ah! Um…” Yuuma takes a deep breath, “IfoundhimonthestreetyesterdayandtookhimhomeandhewasreallyhurtandhehasamnesiaandIknowyoudon’tlikehimbuthe’saBarianandhebelongswithyouguyssopleasetakehimin!” Yuuma takes a long gasp for air, and Shark tries to grasp everything he just said.

There’s no point in asking him to repeat it. He knows in his heart what Yuuma said, and despite how much he wishes it, no deus-ex-machina is going to magically wake him up from this nightmare.

He is suddenly starkly, starkly aware again of his shark print jammies.

And he thought the morning couldn’t get any worse.

The orange hair is still in the corner of his eye. Shark knows of his beating heart and his clammy hands and how utterly bloodshot and terrifying his eyes must look at the moment. He turns to Yuuma and says the first thing that comes to mind. “How do you know he’s not lying again?”

Yuuma flinches a little. He doesn’t even look  _ surprised, _ just cornered, meaning that he definitely expected this question and fuck if that doesn’t make Shark even  _ angrier  _ because  _ if the thought that he was a traitor passed your mind then why didn’t you leave him on the street where he stood?! _

He breathes, in and out, as Yuuma appears to formulate his answer. And Yuuma suddenly stares up at him, a spark of realization in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come to you so suddenly, given you and Shingetsu’s past. I… really didn’t think this one through. If you’d like, I can… I can come back later, or not at all, if you’d prefer!” He bites his lip apologetically. “Really, this is my bad. Sorry, Shark.”

Shark looks at Yuuma and, through the corner of his eye, the shit he won’t touch. 

He wants to turn him away now. He really does.

_ He’s never been very good at saying no to Yuuma.  _

“It’s fine,” he says. A seed of regret settles in his heart, but it’s far overpowered by Yuuma’s shocked expression, slowly morphing into blinding affection.

“Ah-- Thank you! Really, Shark, you don’t have to do this--”

“ _ It’s fine. _ Now, tell me why you trust that snake this time.”

“Ah… um… I know this doesn’t sound very credible, but… it’s…” He shrugs. Something sad shifts into his expression. “It’s just… a feeling, or a hunch, right? Just— trust me this one time. I’m not as stupid as I used to be. Hey,” he grins a bit self-deprecatingly, “Fool me twice, right?”

A million thoughts run through Shark’s head. Three stand out.

One, Yuuma is most likely mistaken. Vector will be Vector.

Two, if Vector stays with Yuuma, Yuuma will be hurt again.

Three, he is a Barian. He lives with his fellow Barians. If Vector stayed with them, who were better equipped to deal with him, then… 

_ He is fooling you twice,  _ a little voice inside Shark screams as the orange-haired figure beside Yuuma shifts. 

“...Fine,” Shark says aloud instead. “For the record, I still think you’re wrong for trusting him at all. But I’ll do it.”

And Yuuma’s face  _ lights  _ up, and that alone almost makes Shark think it’s worth it. 

“Really?!” he shouts. “Like, man, I totally thought you were gonna turn him away— and, really, Shark, are you sure about this? I’m totally fine taking him to my house to live with Sis and Granny, but I figured— I wouldn’t be able to—”

“Yuuma.” Despite the situation and the roiling anger and nausea in his stomach, he nearly finds a grin creeping onto his face.  _ Yuuma is just like that. Even in this crazy situation…  _ “Calm down. First, I have some questions.”

If he and the other Barians were going to do damage control, he needed to know some things about Vector’s situation. He’d gleaned some from Yuuma’s monologue, but. Well. Amnesia? 

“How much does he remember?” Shark asks.  _ Ha. “Remember”.  _

“Ah, just his name… uh, speaking of which, it would be better not to call him Vector.”

Shark nearly huffs. “What did he say his name was?”

“...Shingetsu.” 

“...Yuuma.” 

“I know it sounds super suspicious! But… he really doesn’t remember anything.” 

“...” Shark stills. He’s suddenly tired, shrunken from the energy high as his body remembers how early in the morning it is. A low thrum still settles in his heart from the orange in his periphery.

He scrunches his brows. “Whatever. I don’t intend to rescind my offer.” He sighs. “He’s a Barian. We’re destined to be together, no matter what.”  _ I’m surprised I even thought he died.  _ He can’t hide the weariness in his voice, he knows.

Yuuma doesn’t comment on it. His expression only darkens a tiny bit as he says, “Actually, you might have to explain the Barian thing to him… amnesia, right?”

Shark narrows his eyes a little. “Right.” 

“And, um… he really, really is different. I wasn’t lying about that, haha. Though, I think it’d be pretty hard to explain, and easier for you to just find out.” He bites his lip again, and Shark wonders if that’s grief he sees in Yuuma’s eyes. “Really, though, I’m sorry for this. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing.” 

Shark snorts lightly. “You don’t have to say sorry so much. After everything we’ve been through? What isn’t there that we don’t owe each other?”

Yuuma looks up, a new spark alight in his eyes. And then, a gleam. Then, tears straight up start rolling down his cheeks.

“Shark…..you’ve never said anything that nice before…” He rubs frantically at his face. “You really are my best friend!” 

Shark ignores Kotori, Astral, and Kaito’s similar “best friend” status. Despite how cheesy the thing he said was, he can feel a warmth in his chest. He’d like to savor this moment. 

Well, savor it as much as he can, anyway, given the ever-present monster by Yuuma’s side.

Yuuma gives his eyes one last rub, and then attempts to stand up straight. “Alright! I’ve got to pack. Dad’s going hiking in these mountain ruins this weekend, and I promised I’d go with him…” 

_ Shit. His dad.  _ “That sounds dangerous. Don’t you have an essay due next week?”

“Yeah, but I can’t turn down this chance! Plus, I’ll learn a bunch of survival skills, too…” 

_ You haven’t been able to turn down any of the chances ever since your dad returned,  _ Shark doesn’t say. He gets it. In a messed up way, he gets it. He doesn’t approve, but Yuuma is his own person. He doesn’t want to see the spark die out if Yuuma’s dad starts distancing himself again.

So he waves nonchalantly. “Have fun. Don’t die.”

“Who do you think I am?! I’ll never die! I’ll bring it to those mountains like no one’s business!”

Shark grins. “Yeah. Good luck trying.”

“H-hey! You’ll see! Once I get back, I’m texting you ALL the cool pictures and mailing souvenirs to your house!” He’s already running off, turning back and running in place to shout his promises at Shark.

“Looking forward to it,” Shark yells teasingly. Yuuma groans in frustration and leaves, still waving.

And Shark waves as well. He knows his eyes betray wistfulness. “Looking forward to it,” he says again, mostly to himself.

“Um, Shark-kun,” a timid and quiet voice says from his left. Shark’s head whips around bewilderedly to glare at the offending speaker, and

he’s met with wide purple eyes, frightened and shining.

Vector flinches once more from what Shark assumes is the scary expression he currently wears. His heartbeat, fast as it already is, quickens as a myriad of emotions wash through him. Guilt, and then anger at even feeling guilty for him the first place; and it’s when he looks into those wide purple eyes that the first inklings of resentment start to reform, because oh, that bastard, how dare he look so  _ innocent  _ after everything he’s done? 

“I-I’m sorry. Did I startle you?” Vector asks. His voice is timid and quiet, with a hint of a stutter; Shark has to strain to hear.

He also has to strain to stop himself from punching him. Shark tries to still his beating heart and, gritting his teeth, snaps, “No, you didn’t.” Vector flinches again, and another bout of anger flares within Shark.

It was all logical, of course; protect Yuuma, make Yuuma happy, and do damage control. But now that Vector is in front of him, within his line of sight instead of a smudge in the periphery, Shark finds anger and fear and weariness filling the veins of his body.

_ He has to do this. He has to do this.  _ He takes a deep breath and pulls on the giant oak doors of their mansion so hard he swears they may come off their hinges. Vector flinches once again. Shark’s anger grows. 

He gestures for Vector to follow and Vector does so as obediently as his veneer would imply. Shark hates this more and more by the moment, the  _ waiting.  _ The knowledge that the real Vector could pop back any minute.

_ And not to mention…  _ More realizations flood into his head. He has to  _ live  _ with Vector. They all have to live with Vector, one of their worst enemies, and he can’t imagine the look on Rio’s face when she finds out that he agreed to take back her murderer for the sake of ‘damage control’. They’ll all have to deal with him, carve out spaces in their already crooked lives for him,  _ see _ him,  _ remember  _ him--

And Vector is going to need a room. He’s going to  _ sleep  _ in the mansion with them.

He doesn’t want to look at Vector any longer than he has to, so he runs the available rooms through his head. There are dozens of empty, dusty rooms in the mansion, none of which he currently has the capacity to clean out. The options he currently has…

He doesn’t want Vector back in his old room. It feels like tempting the fates, and Shark doesn’t want everything to suddenly return to as it was over a year ago. Too much has changed since then.

His parents’ bedroom, which he recently cleaned. They may not have been his real parents, but there’s a space in his heart that will always belong to them. The thought of Vector living there makes him sick.

And then… the one that’s left…

His stomach sinks, and anger erupts in him like a volcano.

Yeah, that one’s not happening.

Before he knows it, he’s in front of Vector’s old room. 

He needs _something_ to house him in right now. He’ll ask Girag and Dubhe to help him renovate one of the old rooms when they’re available.

He turns behind him. Vector is still there, cowering in his facade. It makes Shark’s blood boil, but a voice whispers steady in his head.

_ Damage control, Shark. _

He snarls. “This is your room. Get in.”

“O-of course.”

They stand awkwardly, there, for a few beats before Shark realizes he’s standing in front of the door, blocking Vector’s way.  _ Tch.  _ He takes a step back, and Vector tentatively reaches out to turn the doorknob.

_ Vector is going to be in a room without supervision.  _

“Wait.”

Vector stills, and turns.

_ Let’s see how long you can keep up your act. _

Shark holds up his fingers. “There are three rules you have to follow if you’re going to be living with us.”

Slowly as if unsure, Vector nods.

“One. You aren’t allowed to be in a room unsupervised.”

A nod.

“Two. You aren’t allowed to leave the house without permission.”

Another nod.

“Three. Stay away from Rio. And don’t get on my nerves.” 

One last nod, more sure this time. And then, just as Shark’s about to leave, Vector speaks up one last time.

“Um, Shark-kun… if I may have permission to ask a question…”

“Don’t make it stupid.”

“...Um, what’s a Barian?”

The weariness settles like stone in Shark’s bones. He really, really doesn’t want to do this right now.

_ Flashes of purple and red and chiseled grey wings and a cliff and a laugh and a bet and a push-- _

“It’s all of us,” he says. He can’t even conceal his tone in anything, at this point. He is just very, very tired.

After this, he is going to take a long, long nap.

He walks away, leaving Vector alone to his room down the hall. 


End file.
